


re: the common cold

by celestialfics



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Living Together, M/M, Post-Canon, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: Even though Viktor is insufferable when he's sick, Yuuri can never really refuse him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it seems everyone around me is sick right now... so i'm trying desperately not to catch it !  
> luckily i do not have to take care of someone as needy as viktor. dear yuuri's not so lucky;;;
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Yuuri knows he’s done for as soon as Viktor coughs for the first time. It’s a short, sharp cough, and Viktor covers his mouth with the crook of his elbow to play it off as a sneeze. (It’s a cough, though. Yuuri knows this, despite being all the way across the rink.)

“All good, Viktor?” Yuuri calls out across the rink anyway, which is empty save for them.

“All good, Yuuri!” Viktor smiles, and he begins to skate over to his fiancé.

See, Yurio had caught the common cold last week, and being Yurio, he showed up to practice with it regardless. But in doing this, Yurio got Mila sick, who in turn got Georgi sick, and now it seems to be Viktor’s turn for a run in with the ailment.

Keeping this in mind, Yuuri dodges Viktor’s advance towards him as he skates over. Viktor pouts, turning sharply to face Yuuri, his arms still open and beckoning Yuuri to hug him.

“You’re sick,” Yuuri states plainly in explanation, and Viktor’s arms fall to his sides.

“I’m not sick,” Viktor replies, placing his hands on his hips. “I don’t get sick.”

“You’re sick,” Yuuri repeats anyway, hiking up an eyebrow and looking at Viktor expectantly. Viktor just blinks at him.

He eventually insists, “I’m not sick,” to which Yuuri shakes his head.

Yuuri hesitates for a moment before he sets a rule, sticking his pointer finger out in declaration: “No touching me until you get better.”

Viktor frowns. “I’m not sick!”

“And you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“So _cruel_ , Yuuri…”

* * *

 

Viktor seems to be fine the next day, but Yuuri’s not convinced.

He’s mostly certain that it’s better to be safe than sorry in this situation, so when Viktor catches him by surprise, skating up behind him and setting his hand on the back of Yuuri’s neck, Yuuri pushes his arm off and skates backwards a few feet. “No touching,” he says.

“ _Yuu—_ ri,” Viktor whines. “I’m really fine.”

Yuuri clicks his tongue, “You get the couch again tonight.”

Viktor _had_ been forced to sleep on the couch the night prior, while Yuuri and Makkachin curled up together on Viktor’s king-sized bed, all tucked underneath the dark blue comforter. Yuuri only feels a little sorry for him.

“Anything but the couch,” Viktor pleads, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead and pretending to faint. “I’m becoming Yuuri-deprived.”

Yuuri purses his lips, shrugging. “I don’t want to get sick,” he explains, and Viktor groans. Yuuri can tell that he _wants_ to say that he’s not sick, but he realizes it’s not worth it to argue.

* * *

 

It’s after the second night of sleeping on the couch that Viktor’s cold symptoms really show.

Yuuri wakes up first, padding from the bedroom and into the living room, Makkachin trotting behind him, the dog’s nails clicking against the floor. Now, Yuuri doesn’t usually wake up first, so when he sees Viktor still sprawled on the couch, his hair splayed against the armrest, he takes a moment to admire how cute and vulnerable he looks. Really, if Viktor weren’t sick, Yuuri would push his bangs back and press a kiss to his forehead. Except, he _is_ sick—very much so, Yuuri notes as he sees the sheen of sweat that has settled upon Viktor’s skin. (But even so, the idea’s still tempting.)

Makkachin pays no attention to this, being a dog, and licks at Viktor’s foot that sticks out off of the couch. Viktor awakens with a groan, clenching his eyes shut and pressing a hand to his forehead. When he cracks open an eye to see Yuuri standing over him, he attempts to let out an exasperated sigh, but it comes out as a fit of coughs instead.

“Ah, poor Vicchan,” Yuuri pouts, though he doesn’t hesitate to take a step backwards from the coughing fit.

“I’m dying,” Viktor croaks. Makkachin jumps onto the couch and settles between Viktor’s legs. Halfheartedly, Viktor reaches a hand and sets it on top of Makkachin’s head.

“It’s a cold, Viktor. You’ll be fine. I’ll tell Yakov you’re not coming in today, though,” Yuuri says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“You’ll stay home with me,” Viktor reaches towards Yuuri with the hand that doesn’t sit upon Makkachin’s head, but Yuuri doesn’t take the hand; he only stares at it. “won’t you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri hesitates; Yakov won’t be happy to hear that he’s skipping practice to care for his needy Russian ice prince, but he’ll feel bad if he leaves Viktor all alone like this. Makkachin can’t exactly make Viktor tea or fetch him a hot rag to lay across his forehead.

“Okay,” he gives, and a satisfied smile sits upon Viktor’s lips only for a second before he coughs again.

After his call with Yakov, which consists of mostly being scolded and holding the phone a few inches away from his face, Yuuri makes his way to the kitchen and begins to boil some water.

“Viktor?” he calls, scanning the many cabinets in Viktor’s kitchen. He hasn’t quite been living here long enough to know where everything is.

“Yes?”

“Where’s your medicine cabinet?”

“It’s in the bathroom, behind the mirror that’s above the sink,” he says, and Yuuri follows his directions to find some pain killers. Naturally, Viktor doesn’t have anything pertaining specifically to the common cold, since he “ _never gets sick_.”

The water’s boiling by the time Yuuri emerges from the bathroom with two pain pills in his hand. He quickly turns off the stove heat, but he neglects the boiling water for a moment longer.

First off, he grabs a cup from one of the cabinets and fills it with cold water from the fridge, with which Viktor can take his medicine. He sets the cup and the pills beside each other on the counter, and then he takes a mug from a different cabinet and tosses a tea-bag into it. Steam rises from the mug as he pours water from the kettle into it. He spoons a little sugar into the mug and tops it with milk, the way Viktor likes it.

Viktor’s somehow managed to fall back to sleep in the time it’s taken Yuuri to get these things together, so when Yuuri pulls a stand over to the couch and sets the cups and pills upon it, he gently nudges Viktor’s shoulder with his hand.

“Viktor…” he says softly, and Viktor makes some sort of whimpering noise that causes Yuuri’s heart to clench. It should _probably_ be illegal to look this good while ill, he thinks. “Take some medicine, okay?”

“Mm,” Viktor hums and coughs soon thereafter. Yuuri frowns. “You’re so nice, Yuuri, taking care of your ailing fiancé like this.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to reply, but Viktor continues before he gets the chance.

“But I read somewhere that cuddling helps headaches, and _Yuuri_ , I’m really dying.”

Yuuri just blinks at him. He’ll admit that it’s tempting to crawl onto Viktor’s lap, set his head on Viktor’s chest, and nap with him, but what’s not so tempting is the cold symptoms that will surely follow. So, he refuses, albeit hesitantly.

“You’re not dying, and that’s what the medicine is for.”

Viktor attempts to scowl at him, but it comes across as more of a pout. Viktor’s really too much of a softie towards Yuuri to actually be angry with him, and Yuuri knows this. (It goes both ways.)

“Please,” Viktor tries again as he takes the mug of tea in his hands and blows the steam off of it.

“You’re already cuddling with Makkachin. Shouldn’t that work just as well?” Yuuri points out, directing his gaze to the dog that naps pleasantly at Viktor’s feet.

“Hm,” he hums, contemplative. “I guess I didn’t think about that,” he admits, reaching down and scratching at Makkachin’s ears. “At least Makkachin loves me.”

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri scolds, rolling his eyes. Viktor lets out a bit of a chuckle.

They’re quiet for a moment, then, the sounds of Makkachin’s soft breaths and Viktor’s sipping of his tea filling the silence.

Yuuri leaves the room soon thereafter to shower, and when he returns with his hair slightly wet and sticking up in all different directions, Viktor’s sitting up on the couch with Makkachin spread over his lap. He’s scrolling through something on his phone.

Upon noticing that Yuuri has returned, Viktor beckons him closer. “Look at this,” he says, holding his phone out to Yuuri.

Yuuri bends slightly down to see the screen, and the article title reads: _Cuddling Hormone Helps Headaches_.

“Plus,” Viktor says, “I read that it doesn’t really work as well with animals.”

Yuuri groans. “Do you want me to get sick?”

“Well, no,” Viktor purses his lips. “But I want to cuddle. Grant your fiancé’s dying wish.”

Yuuri can’t help but snort. “Tough luck,” he says, but then he continues, “You should take a shower though. The steam is good for your sinuses.”

Viktor sniffles in response. “Good idea,” he agrees, and he gently nudges Makkachin off of his lap. After he stands up, he takes a few steps towards Yuuri. “One hug?” he asks, jutting out his bottom lip. Makkachin stands at their feet and yawns.

Yuuri purses his lips. “One,” he permits hesitantly, and Viktor’s face lights up in a smile.

Viktor throws his arms over Yuuri’s shoulders and buries his face into Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri lets his hands rest on Viktor’s hips. Viktor squeezes him once before letting go and stepping away.

“I feel better already,” he says with a smile, and Yuuri can’t help the way his cheeks begin to heat up.

“Go take your shower,” he commands, slightly flustered. He clears his throat as Viktor exits the room. Viktor’s really going to be the death of him.

* * *

 

Viktor’s still sick the next day, though his symptoms have greatly lessened.

“All thanks to Yuuri,” Viktor says, but his voice sounds off since his nose is still plugged.

Yuuri barely resists laughing at him.

They do end up going to practice, but Viktor’s encouraged not to push himself. So, naturally, he hangs around Yuuri. Yuuri’s progressively becoming more careless, not swatting Viktor away when he rests his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder or reaches an arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulls him closer.

His barrier against the sickness is broken, and all his past efforts are deemed useless. It’s all because of Viktor, really, and Yuuri figures that he’ll be sick within the next week. He can’t find it in him to be too angry about it, mostly because he knows it’s his fault all the same as it’s Viktor’s. (He won’t admit that, though.)

Yuuri lets Viktor sleep in the bed with him that night, and it’s really just the nail in the coffin.

* * *

 

A few days later, Yuuri inevitably comes down with a sore throat. Viktor, who’s now the picture of good health, makes him sleep on the couch. In theory.

In reality, Viktor lies in the bed for five minutes before he gets lonely, and then he invites Yuuri back to join him, to which he happily obliges. As it turns out, cuddling does help headaches. Yuuri won’t say anything to Viktor about it, though.  

**Author's Note:**

> can u tell i love domestic fluff yet ? ahh,,,
> 
> i hope that u enjoyed !  
> all comments / kudos / bookmarks make my day <3


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